


Geopolitical Ramifications

by sunalso



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Beer Bad, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-05 13:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12191124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: S4. AU during Beer Bad. A vampire walks into a bar...Beta read by Gort.This is a oneshot that outgrew itself!Archived at EF and AO3 only. Updates posted to EF first.





	1. Yummy!

If the beer wasn’t so good she would have just gotten up and left, because the boys had gotten boring. With a capital…whatever letter.

She didn’t care what they were talking about. It was just so much noise about things that would never matter to someone like her, someone who had to run around at night killing things. She frowned. That was kind of sad. Shouldn’t she care about the economics of wherever or the geopolitical ramifications of, uh, stuff?

Ha! Ramifications. She could totally ram-ify Parker. She’d ram him with a stake in a place that he really wouldn’t like. The meanie.

“More beer?” one of the guys asked.

Duh. She wasn’t here because these boys smelled good. She held out her glass for a refill. The foamy part made her smile.

Buffy was just about to take a drink when a tingle washed down her back.

Vampire.

And not just any vampire. A stupid one she didn’t like who had dumb hair. She swiveled her head until she found him, as usual, slinking through the shadows. He was wearing his normal outfit of big black coat a black t-shirt and jeans. He was probably trying to kill someone. Because that’s what vampires did.

As the Slayer, she had to stop him.

Beer in hand, Buffy launched herself to her feet. She only stumbled once before she planted herself in his path. “Hi, Spike.” She didn’t sound nearly as scary as she had meant to.

Spike raised an eyebrow and glanced towards the stairs leading out of the bar. “Hello, Slayer. Fancy meeting you here.”

His voice was rumbly and sounded nice, unlike the boys she was sitting with. If he was in a chair and talking to her, he wouldn’t be killing anyone. That’d work. She shoved the glass at him. “Beer and talk?”

Spike looked at the offered mug. “Uh, how many of those have you had?”

“Not enough. Vampire sit with Slayer. Talk. No being bad right now.”

“Right,” he drawled. “And I’d do this why?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Because Slayer said so. Otherwise, pointy wood.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but sure, why ever bloody not. Nothing terrible could possibly happen.” To Buffy’s satisfaction, his hand closed around the glass of beer and he took a sip. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him towards the table she was sitting at.

She reclaimed her chair and looked around for an empty glass.

“I’m not sure I’m impressed with the company you keep,” Spike said.

“They’re stupid,” she mumbled as she found a glass, righted it, and filled it from the pitcher.

“We’re not stupid,” one of the boys said. “We know things.”

“Like how to be stupid.” Buffy took a drink and looked up at Spike. “Sit! Talk!” She wanted to hear his voice…oh, and keep him from killing people. That was important too.

“There’s not a chair, pet.”

She looked around the table at the stinky boys. “Go away,” she told them.

“No,” one of the boys said and bared his teeth at her.

“I believe the lady requested you lot move on,” Spike rumbled.

Buffy blinked and looked up at him. “Yeah, what he said.”

“But–“ a boy started and Buffy’s eyes darted to him. There was a low growl from Spike and an increase in the vampire-tinglies that let her know he’d put on his demon face. She had to set her glass down so she could giggle into her hands as the dumb boys all turned pasty white and scrambled out of their chairs. A second growl had them tripping over their own feet in their haste to leave the pub.

“Gits, all of them, thinking they could make time with a bird like you.” Spike sighed and sagged into the chair next to hers. “What do you want to talk about, luv?”

“Why are you in Sunnydale?” Buffy was proud she’d come up with such a good question.

The vampire shrugged. “Don’t rightly know. Maybe to fight you. I’m at loose ends now that your ex-honey smashed the Gem of Amara.”

That shocked her. “Smashed?”

“Yeah, like a bug.” Spike drained his glass and refilled it.

Buffy had sent Angel the Gem for safekeeping and he’d…smashed it? Her shoulders slumped. “Angel stupid.”

Spike grinned. “Now that I’ll drink to.” Buffy held up her mug. “Cheers,” he said and clicked their glasses together. The beer went down easy and Spike refilled both mugs, polishing off the pitcher. “This stuff’s not half bad, at least as far as the swill that you Yanks call beer goes.” Spike was staring into the depths of his drink.

“Beer good,” Buffy confirmed, because he was right. Which didn’t happen very often.

“Buffy, what’s going on?” Xander was standing beside her looking confused. Which he really shouldn’t be. He worked in a bar and it should be obvious that what she was doing was drinking.

“Beer,” she said, draining hers.

“I meant with Spike,” Xander whispered the last.

“I’m right here,” the vampire grumbled.

“I can see that,” Xander said. “Which is kind of the problem.”

“No problem.” Buffy thumped her mug down on the table. She looked at the empty pitcher forlornly. “Spike talking. No killing.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed. “Talking. And drinking.”

“No beer,” Buffy said sadly.

“Would you be a dear and get us another pitcher of this stuff?” Spike waved his empty glass at Xander.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Xander appeared terrified but his tone was stern.

“Beer,” Buffy whined.

“What the lady said.” Spike pulled out a wad of bills and peeled off a fifty and handed it to Xander. “That should cover a couple more rounds and you can keep the change.”

Xander looked down at the bill. After a few long moments, he tucked it into his pocket with a sigh. “Fine, another pitcher of Black Frost coming up. But if you hurt her…” He shook a finger at Spike. “I’ll…I’ll..” Spike raised an eyebrow. “I’ll do something mean you won’t like.”

“Not going to hurt the chit. Not tonight. Wouldn’t be any fun when she’s three sheets to the wind.”

Xander muttered something and stomped away, returning a moment later with the pitcher. He slammed it down so some sloshed on the table and stormed off again.

“He doesn’t like you,” Buffy said.

“You don’t like me.” Spike was refilling both their glasses with an amused smile on his lips. The bottom one was fuller than the top and looked biteable.

“Nope.” That’s right, she didn’t.

“And I don’t like you. Cheers!” They clinked glasses again and chugged down the yummy liquid. Spike started telling her a story about a kind of demon that liked to bite off noses and she thought he might be lying and making it up, but he was funny and the story made her laugh. And he was refilling her glass. All things of the good.

Plus, his voice was soothing and nice and she liked watching his biteable lip move.

“Are you even listening to me, Slayer?” Spike asked, voice teasing. He downed the end of his beer, which was the last of the second–maybe third?– pitcher they’d shared. She had the sneaking suspicion he’d had many more glasses from it than she had.

“Nope.” Buffy leaned towards him and squinted her eyes. “Hey, you look kind of drunk.”

Spike chuckled. His normally slicked back hair was mussed and curly and he was slumped in his chair, his shirt wrinkled. “It’s not just me,” he whispered loudly, which made Buffy giggle. Her sweater felt too hot and she started to wrestle it off, but it wanted to put up a fight, especially after she got it far enough off that it was covering her face. Strong hands gripped the fabric and stripped it from her, leaving her in her pants and tank-top.

“Thank you,” Buffy said, only he wasn’t looking at her face. Spike’s eyes were stuck on her chest. Rude vampire, you looked at someone when they were talking to you. She put her hands on his knees. “I said: thank you.”

Spike dragged his eyes upward to hers. He blinked rapidly and his face shifted to show his fangs and ridges, which didn’t make his lip look any less delicious. There was probably some reason he shouldn’t wear his bumpies, but she’d forgotten it. He was a vampire, and vampires did the demon face-thingy. And Spike’s wasn’t as icky as some vamps she’d seen.

She leaned forward and her hands slid up to mid-thigh. She squeezed. “Thank you.”

He grunted softly and his fingers wrapped around her elbows. That was better. He tilted his head to the side, like an adorable little puppy, and regarded her with his yellow eyes. One of his hands lifted to pat her hair. “Pretty,” he said.

Buffy blushed as she regarded him from under her eyelashes.

His eyes dropped back to her chest. “Pretty,” he grunted again and the tip of his tongue slowly licked his biteable lip. It was mesmerizing. Something low down in her belly got all warm and squiggly.  

Nice-Spike was fun, but she was kind of done with talking. He yipped in surprise when she darted in and caught his lower lip between her teeth. It was as yummy as it had looked, plump and soft. She didn’t bite hard, just enough so she could tug on it as she slowly pulled back. His eyes were very wide. She let his lip go and smiled. “Tag! You’re it!” Laughing, she launched herself out of her seat and towards the exit. Behind her, there was the sound of a chair being knocked over and a playful growl.

“Buffy!” Someone yelled. It might have been Xander, but she didn’t want to stop and look back to check because then the vampire chasing her would catch her. “I’m telling Giles!”

She burst out the door and sprinted towards the edge of campus, Spike hot on her heels. Everything else was forgotten as she jumped bike racks and dodged pedestrians, mostly successfully. Her pulse was pounding from running and the thrill of the game. It was fun because Spike had said he wouldn’t hurt her because she had sheets, or was sheety, or whatever.

At the edge of campus, she paused, but Spike nearly grabbed her. Giggling, she dodged at the last moment and took off down the street. Spike scrambled after her. Buffy looked over her shoulder at the wide grin on Spike’s face.

He snarled, she squealed, and Buffy was entirely sure that the big bad vampire was going to catch her.

She could hardly wait.


	2. Yay!

Predictably, Buffy’s feet led her to the nearest graveyard. Spike’s signature tinglies disappeared from behind her and Buffy’s steps faltered as she rounded the side of the crypt. Where’d he gone? Hadn’t they been having fun?

A second later they returned, only now they were...Buffy squeaked as Spike tackled her from the roof of the crypt. He pinned her to the ground, hands on her shoulders, with a crow of triumph. She started to push him off, because he was kind of heavy, but her fingers stalled when she laid them on his chest. There were muscles. Had he been hiding them this whole time? Her lower lip jutted out at the unfairness of Spike hiding his muscles from her.

Giving a little cry of delight, Spike brought his mouth to hers. Only he kissed instead of bit.

The world got kind of spinny.

Her eyes started to close, but then Spike pulled away from her.

Hey!

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, and his fangs looked a lot less scary than she remembered. He grunted something that sounded like ‘tag’ and took off. Buffy jumped to her feet, laughing. Silly vampire.

She chased him among the gravestones with no other thought than to catch him.  Well, there were plans in a corner of her mind to lick him all over once she had caught him because he smelled wonderful and probably tasted just as good.

Or maybe she’d punch him because he was playing hard to get. He’d let her get close, then rabbit away, forcing her to run harder or jump over a tombstone. Stupid vampire needed to stay still so he could be licked.

Finally, he got overconfident and let her within arm’s reach. Only she didn’t go for his arms. Instead, she took his legs out and he crashed to the ground. Straddling him, she mimed staking his chest, which made them both laugh.

Buffy sat back and was reminded of what boys and girls did together as her crotch met his. He was very hard and rubbed against her with a delighted look on his face.

She wanted him badly, but something was nagging at her.

The last boy…he’d seemed nice and said the right things, but then she hadn’t been satisfied. She’d made some appreciative noises at one point and he’d beamed at her and had thought his job was done. Buffy did not want to be disappointed again. She poked Spike’s chest and he stopped wiggling. “Sex?” she asked, lifting herself off of the vampire so she wasn’t touching his erection.

Spike nodded and grabbed her hips to try and pull her back down.

He didn’t seem to understand what she was asking. “Good sex, with Buffy?” she tried again, jerking her index finger back and forth between her chest and Spike’s. 

He looked offended.

Buffy frowned, but then decided it was worth giving him a try. He was making her all fluttery. This time, when he tugged at her, she let herself be ensconced on his lap. Spike made a happy, twittery noise and rubbed his hard-on excitedly against her. All the heat in her belly was making it hard to focus, but she managed to yank his shirt out of his pants. Getting it off him was another puzzle. After a few seconds, she gave up and ripped it open.

Oh, yay!

She trailed her hands from his waistband to his throat, then scratched lightly with her nails all the way back down. Spike’s muscles twitched and he moaned. No more shirts for him, ever, she decided. It was forbidden. With the pads of her fingers, she traced every plane and dip of his torso, thoroughly enjoying herself. Spike’s hands were kneading her ass and his yellow eyes were less than focused.

“Dude! That’s not what humans are for!” exclaimed a scandalized male voice.

Buffy looked up at the three vamps, in gameface, that were staring slack jawed at her and Spike.

Spike growled.

“You’re supposed to, uh, drink their blood…” the guy trailed off as Buffy launched herself to standing. The world only tilted a little. Beside her, Spike climbed to his feet.

Spike took a menacing step forward, but Buffy put out her arm to stop him. “Me Slayer!” she said, slapping her chest.

Spike glanced at the three vamps, all who looked a lot more worried than they had a moment ago, and shrugged before casually leaning his hip against a tombstone.

Buffy nodded once at him in approval. She was the Chosen One. This was her duty. Turning back to her opponents, she raised her fists and bared her teeth at them. In the next instant, she was attacking, grabbing one and throwing him against a tombstone, punching the next, and kicking the third. After a few more volleys, she was able to grab a wooden stake that was marking one corner of a newly dug grave.

She staked the first vamp, but the second managed to clock her and send her staggering back. She could feel the other vamp trying to sneak up in her blind spot. Spike appeared beside her, an eyebrow raised and a finger pointed behind her. She nodded, and with a gleeful smile, he threw himself into the fray.

It was glorious.

They worked well together and too soon she’d put the stake through her opponent’s heart. Buffy turned just in time to watch Spike rip the last vamp’s head from its shoulders. The vampire was dust before it hit the ground. If Spike was trying to impress her, it’d worked. His eye rose to meet hers and her heart sped up. His gaze seared.

She was panting as heat blossomed in her belly.

Spike prowled towards her until he could snake an arm around her waist and pull her flush against him. The heat turned to a fire that surged through her as his mouth claimed hers. She was melting, her thoughts nothing but white haze.

He paused and turned his head to the side, making her cry out at the loss of his lips. Gripping her arm, he tugged her towards a crypt. He kicked the door open and slammed it shut once they were inside. Moonlight filled the interior, making everything gleam silver. Spike’s yellow eyes darted around the room before he spotted what he was looking for. From the shadows of an alcove beside the door he pulled out a rusty iron candelabra out and used his lighter to spark all five white pillar candles to life.

The warm, flickering candlelight was kind to him.  

Buffy found herself pushed back against the door as Spike renewed his assault on her mouth. Unafraid, she ran her tongue across the points of his fangs as she pushed his duster and the remains of his shirt from his shoulders to puddle on the floor. She explored him with her hands, running them over his chest, arms, and strong shoulders. Her fingers outlined the contours of his back and she had the desire to map every bump of his spine with her tongue.

His hands were learning her as well, tracing the curves of her hips and rear as he insistently pressed the hardness behind his zipper against her. The need to see what he kept in his pants became overwhelming. She flattened her palms against his chest and pushed him back. A snarl left him, that trailed off into a happy sounding exclamation as she dropped her knees. Hurriedly, she undid the laces to his boots and he toed them off. She stripped off his socks and for a few seconds petted the tops of his feet. They were much nicer looking than she’d been expecting, and the fact that he had toes made him seem more…normal, somehow. Less mysterious.

Buffy straightened back up on her knees so that she was eye level with Spike’s groin. Glancing up, she found him leering at her. He ran a hand down his stomach and hooked his thumb over his belt while using his fingers to pull the denim of his jeans even tighter over the prominent bulge of his hard-on. Her pussy pulsed with desire. She wanted him inside her, badly.

Her fingers went to his belt and as she undid the buckle, Spike’s expression changed from a smirk to one of soft awe. He cooed softly and ran a hand through her hair. His zipper was loud as she lowered it and she forgot to breathe as she reached up, grabbed the sides of his jeans and yanked them down and then off.

Oh, wow.

“Boy,” she said reverently as she wrapped her hand around Spike’s hard length. It was pretty. Spike’s eyes were nearly closed when she glanced at his face again and he didn’t seem to mind as she took her time inspecting his cock. No one had let her play like this before. With Angel it’d been all under the covers, he’d insisted, as if what they’d been doing was wrong, and Parker hadn’t really wanted her to spend much time with his before he’d insisted on getting down to business. Probably because it hadn’t been much, both to look at and in general.

At the moment, Buffy felt like it was Christmas morning. She inspected Spike’s cock from all angles, impressed with how heavy he felt in her hands. The head was deep red and as she watched a drop of white fluid beaded at the very tip. She leaned forward and sniffed it, then licked it off. The taste made her toes curl. It was musky, salty, and male in a way that had her nipples puckering. Spike had moaned when her tongue had brushed his dick, and she sat back on her heels to smile up at him.

He was all dopey eyed and had a grin plastered on his face. Slowly, she began pumping his shaft, fascinated by the feel of his soft skin sliding over the rigid hardness underneath. She threaded the fingers of her other hand into the wiry brown curls of his pubic hair and tugged at them, making him grunt. She giggled and dropped her hand down to lightly scratch her nails over his sac. Spike moaned, the deep sound exciting her.

She’d dragged that sound of pleasure out of him. It was heady stuff and she wanted more.

She stood, and thinking to jump and wrap her legs around him, she let go of his cock. Spike immediately made an alarmed noise and caught her wrists, bring both her hands back to his dick and guiding her palms to wrap around him. He gave a relieved sigh as she stroked him and patted the top of her head.

Buffy pursed her lips. Surely he didn’t mean for her to just jack him off. His cock bucked in her grip and Spike delightedly wiggled his hips. She squeezed gently, his erection as hard and cool as steel against her skin.

Hey! She got it.

Buffy squeezed again and paused her actions to look up at Spike’s face. “Warm?” she asked, and Spike eagerly nodded. Buffy let go with one hand and pointed at her pussy, which was feeling emptier by the second. “Hot,” she said firmly.

Spike’s eyes rolled up and Buffy squeaked as she abruptly found herself on her back with a very enthusiastic and naked vampire kneeling between her thighs. He briefly pressed his cheek against hers, then tugged her shirt off. His mouth closed around one of her nipples while his fingers rolled the other. Her head fell back as she moaned and pushed her chest towards him.

Instead of feeling the expected dirt, she became aware that he’d managed to lay her out on his leather duster. Very considerate of him.

Spike spiraled his tongue over the entirety of one breast while he kneaded the other with a hand, then switched. Her voice sounded rough as she gasped and clutched at his hair, trying to anchor him in place. He ran his nose over her and nuzzled his face into the undersides of her breasts, making happy vampire noises the entire time.

At last, he shrugged off her hands and sat up. He moved so he could remove her shoes and strip her pants and underwear down her legs. They ended up in a jumbled pile with her shirt and his jeans.

Once more, he knelt between her legs. He ran his hands up her calves and onto her inner thighs. With very deliberate motions he guided her to bend her knees and then spread them wide apart, leaving her completely open to his gaze. Spike tilted his head to the side and fixed his eyes on her. With one finger he circled her opening, making her cry out, then trailed it up to rub over her clit. That elicited a deep moan. He tried a couple different ways of stroking her until he found one–rapid little circles and flicks–that had her mewling and quivering.

She was racing towards a climax, her whole body tightening up. She squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath. No one else had ever made her…she was so close.

Spike’s fingers left her and her eyes snapped open as she gasped.

Looking a little smug, he reached out and ran his fingers from her shoulder to her elbow, where he curled them around her and encouraged her to into a halfway sitting position. With his other hand, he tapped her nose. Her eyes followed the tip of his finger as he dropped it down to flick her clit, making her gasp.

She could see her pussy, the lips plump and spread apart. Her clit was swollen and peeking out. Everything down there was slicked with her juices. It was a little weird to see herself so exposed, and self-consciousness began to creep in. Was her left labia bigger than her right? She hadn’t shaved down there in a while, since she didn’t have a regular boyfriend, and her pubic hair was totally doing its own thing.

Her eyes shifted to the side and Spike huffed, sounding irritated. He brought a finger back to her nose and had her gaze follow it down to her pussy again. This time, however, he shifted and wrapped his hand around his cock. He dragged the head of it over her opening and lightly tapped her clit. The sight made her tremble. All other thoughts melted away as lust surged through her blood.

Spike brought the tip of his dick back to the entrance to her body and paused.

Buffy snorted in frustration, but Spike only twittered softly in answer. It sounded like a question. Her eyes rose to his face, but he was staring avidly at where his cock was poised to slide into her. Her body was more than ready and a fresh rush of wetness welled from her as she waited impatiently.

Spike twittered again and Buffy figured out that it was actually a question. He was asking permission.

It was beyond sweet. A new warmth, different that desire, kindled in her chest. “Yes,” she whispered.

With a happy sounding groan, he pushed into her, the broad head of his cock stretching her open. Buffy gasped. Pleasure was overwhelming her. The sight of his cock disappearing into her pussy while she could feel her inner walls parting to accommodate him was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced. When he was fully seated inside her, he braced his knees and brought his other hand up to caress her as he thrust shallowly a few times. His cock slid out a couple of inches before he surged back into her. Watching him and feeling the steel hard prod of him deep inside her had her on the brink of coming again.

Spike swirled the pads of his fingers over her clit and this time he didn’t stop. Her climax slammed into her and she howled, her hips bucking against him. Her pussy clamped down around his dick with a brutal intensity, making her see stars as the bliss raced through her veins. Her eyes were transfixed on where they were joined. She could see her pussy pulsing, milking his cock.

She’d never gotten off with another person inside her.

His cock was hitting just the right spot, satisfying some need she hadn’t even known she’d had. When she played with herself it was mostly with her clit and she’d never come with something invading her bigger than her own finger before. Her breathing wouldn’t calm down, she needed more. A lot more.

Spike let her arm go and she sagged back against his coat as he surged forward. He was slamming into her, jackhammering her ruthlessly and forcing her to brace her feet against the floor.  

She moaned and clutched at his back. She needed this. Her own hips were a flurry as she rose to meet his thrusts.

With another yell, she came again and then again.

Spike dropped his head forward and pressed his cheek to hers. His rhythm became uneven and with one last, hard thrust he peaked. His cock jerked and she could feel the spurts of his come as it flooded her.

With the last grunt, he collapsed on top of her and was still.

She stroked his hair.

That’d been amazing. She felt like she could keep going forever.

“Good boy,” she said, nuzzling his ear. “Good sex.”

Spike grunted, then rolled over, bringing her with him. Beneath her, he bucked and to her absolute delight, she realized he was hard again. A grin split her face and Spike looked smug. His hands cupped her breasts for a moment, then dropped to her hips as he helped her figure out how to move.

“More?” she asked, unable to contain her excitement. “Slayer can do a lot more.”

Spike pointed at himself and nodded while slamming his hips upward to emphasize his point.

Yay!

Buffy let her head drop back as she rocked her hips and contemplated all the things she wanted to do with her vampire.

There were still a lot of hours left in the night.


	3. Yikes!

Buffy woke up with a start. For a second the dark, musty smell and hard packed dirt under her back didn’t make sense.

Then a headache and all her memories from the night before rushed in. The pain pounding in her skull made even the faint light filtering into the crypt seem too bright.

The memories, oh dear. She’d…done that. And that. And that other thing…and, boy, did Spike really have excellent muscle control when it came to his tongue.

Spike!

Her hand flew to her neck and patted around, but the skin felt completely unblemished. And she was still alive.

Huh.

Didn’t alcohol take your inhibitions away? She bit her lip. Apparently, her without any inhibitions was kind of a freak. A fun freak, that got off a lot. With a vampire.

Oh god, she was such a weirdo.

It was even worse because she didn’t think she’d mind so much doing it again. Maybe not the beer part, but the crazy-good sex part, sure.

Buffy let out a gusty sigh. You had to have a partner for the sex part and Spike had probably taken off…

A pale shape twitched beside her and, surprised, she tilted her head to look. Spike was crashed out on his back, fast asleep, one arm bent to pillow his head and the other hand resting on his stomach. He was still naked. Er, well, so was she. Her eyes flicked down to where his cock lay, soft and unassuming in the low light filtering around the edges of the crypt’s door.

Her cheeks heated up. He’d been all kinds of inside her last night. It had been better than any lame romance novel she’d ever read. Her gaze returned to his face, which looked peaceful in slumber. It occurred to her that if she attacked him right now, she could kill him easily.

Only…she groaned. There would be no Spike killage. At least not right now. Not until he gave her a reason she couldn’t ignore.

She’d had such a good time with him last night. At the pub, he’d been a blast to talk to, which was unexpected. He’d been funny and part of her wished there hadn’t been so much beer involved. There could have been dinner and more talking, and she could have told him about the time when she…

Oh no.

That would be a date. Buffy bit her lip and waited for the expected horror to arrive at the mere thought of being on a date with Spike. Only her subconscious didn’t seem to mind. It even suggested she should wear that little black dress she’d bought last week along with her new pink lace bra and panty set that Spike would need a very stern warning about not ripping because they were expensive.

She slammed her mental brakes on. Not having her panties ripped off was way down her list of problems with Spike. Him killing and eating people was at the top of it.

Maybe they could talk about it over pasta at that new place that had recently opened–

Ugh.

She was going to have to face the fact that just because she’d slept with him, it didn’t mean anything had changed. Though she had learned an awful lot about herself. Such as the fact that she really liked getting screwed hard from behind while being told a whole string of dirty things she’d never repeat, even for a million dollars. She blushed just thinking about them, though there was a tell-tale tingle from between her legs.  How she had any feeling at all down there after last night she had no idea.

She and Spike had gone for hours before collapsing into an exhausted and satiated heap. She’d cuddled against him and they’d both fallen asleep. It had to be mid-afternoon now, and she must have already missed her classes. Willow, Giles, and Xander were probably frantic with worry. She had to get up and go find them to let them know she was okay.

Buffy brushed her fingers over Spike’s arm. Drunk him had been so nice to her. The thought that he’d be back to being his usual jerky self when he woke was almost more than she could stand. Harsh words, arrogance, maybe some crude jokes…they’d turn her happy memories into something dirty. She didn’t want to remember it like that. It’d ended up being far more than scratching an itch for her.

She sighed. But it wouldn’t have been that way for him. Yippee, another notch on her one-night only bedpost. At least this guy hadn’t disappeared while she’d been asleep.

Things weren’t going to get any better by her waiting longer. Slowly, mindful of her aching head, she sat up and poked his chest. “Spike?”

His brow scrunched up. “It’s still daylight,” he grumbled and rolled over so his back was to her. Which wasn’t fair. His back was very nice and his ass really begged to be grabbed.

“Spike, wake up.” She jabbed her finger at his shoulder.

“I’m awake, it’s how I’m talking to you.”

“Please.”

With a groan, Spike sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Christ, remind me never to drink again.”

Something broke in Buffy’s chest, he must already be regretting what they’d done.  “That bad?” her voice came out more pleading than she’d meant it to.

“My head feels like it got run over by a team of sodding Clydesdales. Are you telling me yours doesn’t?”

“It totally does.” She frowned. Couldn’t he just laugh at her and they could get this over with? Tears were gathering.

Fingers massaging his temples, Spike sighed and looked up at her. “Kitten? What’s wrong?” Before Buffy had time to think, he’d scooted over and pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. It was a nice thing to do and the last straw. She started sobbing. “Shh, luv, shh. What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“You’re going to be mean!” she choked out around the lump in her throat. Damn him for making her feel so comfortable in his embrace.

“I am?” he sounded surprised. His hands cupped her cheeks and his thumbs swiped at her tears.

She nodded. His face was so concerned and she had to close her eyes, not wanting to see the moment it changed to something else.

“Why would I do that?”

“They all do,” she whispered. “You know that. You pointed it out to me in case I’d missed it. Silly Buffy, not worth another go.”

Spike went very still. “I was just trying to throw you off your game, luv. Didn’t work, now did it? I seem to remember someone making sure I had to run for the sewers.” His arms slid down to hold her and he pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. “And I also recall rather a lot of goes last night. Would be good with another one right now.”  He shifted her so she was straddling his lap. One of his hands was petting her rear and his erection was poking against her thigh.

She opened her eyes to find him dreamily staring into her face.

“Uh, really?” Her heart jumped. He still wanted her.

Spike smiled crookedly. “Yeah, kitten. Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you. I figured that out sometime last night.” He threaded a hand into her hair and pulled her in for a kiss. She wrapped a hand around his shaft and guided it to her channel, sinking down onto him with a sigh he echoed.

Gently, she rocked her hips, her muscles sore and her pussy itself rather tender. Spike grunted and hissed and first, and she had to hide her smile against his neck, somehow pleased with herself for leaving him a little raw as well. Though it was only a few minutes before her discomfort faded and she was riding him harder.

He was moaning, the sound a low vibration in his throat.

She nuzzled against his skin, inhaling his now familiar scent and darting out her tongue to taste him.

“Forever,” Spike was babbling. “Oh, god, Slayer. Want you forever.”

Her hips stilled and she flattened her palms and pushed herself upright. Spike looked confused. “There is no forever,” she said, stunned. “There’s not a later today. You kill people. You’re going to leave here and have dinner and then I’m going to have to stake you and…” A new wave of tears washed down her face.

Spike shook his head. “I thought about that last night too.” His expression became flustered. “I want to…I mean I…I can get blood from Willie’s, or the butchers. You can come with me. I’ll wear a tracking bracelet or something so you know I’m not doing anything that’d mean you’d have to stake me. I’d do anything if–” He visibly swallowed and his hands shook against her. “Do you want me, Buffy?” His eyes were wide and he looked terrified. He chest coiled with warmth and her sadness fled. He hadn’t been waiting to leave her, he’d been thinking of ways they could be together.

Suddenly, she felt shy. Her eyes dropped to his chest. “Yes,” she mumbled.

In the next instant, she was flat on her back with Spike thrusting hard and fast inside her. “Say it again,” he panted.

“I want you.” Her voice sounded surer this time.

He grabbed her wrist and guided her fingers to her clit before he braced himself on both arms and slamming his cock into her. She rubbed, peaking quickly with a gasp. Her hips surged up against his as pleasure erupted inside her. His own orgasm followed quickly, and the look of pained ecstasy on his face made her smile. He lay down next to her on the ground and gathered her into his arms.

Her headache seemed to have completely disappeared. Cool.

“Uh, this weekend,” he said, after a minute. “On Saturday night, do you have any plans?”

“Depends,” she said.

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Depends on what?”

“If my boyfriend is asking me out on a date.”

His brow furrowed for a moment, and then he became almost bashful. “He might be…do you like Italian? There a new place and I heard they do a mean Fra Diavolo.”

 “Really? I was thinking earlier that I’d like to go there with you.”

“You were?” He grinned goofily.

“Totally. Do you think they have chicken fettuccini?”

“I bet they bloody do. Should I pick you up right after sundown?”

“Sure. It’s a date.” She kissed his chest, feeling weirdly normal. Then she giggled. “Oh my god. What happens on Saturday?”

Spike looked puzzled. “What are you on about?”

“In the alley behind the Bronze, don’t you remember when we made another date for a Saturday night?”

“Oh, right.” He looked sheepish. “I’ll actually wait for Saturday this time.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “And I most certainly don’t plan on hurting you.”

“That’s good.” Buffy stared into his earnest blue eyes. Cripes, she really believed him. And was even excited about going out with him. She needed to get new mascara before then.

Spike shifted and ran a foot up and down her calf. “What about tonight?”

“I have to patrol,” she said with a sigh.

“I know, but, er, I don’t suppose you’d want some help?”

Buffy blinked. “You’d do that?”

“Of course.” He frowned. “It was fun last night, fighting beside you instead of against you. I’d happily have your back anytime, Slayer. Every night you go hunting if you want.”

The warmth in her chest was rapidly heating up to something red-hot and glowing. “That sounds really nice, Spike.”

“Where should we meet?”

“Restfield gates at 9 pm?”

“Sounds good. It gives me time after sundown to make a blood run. I’m going to need to track down some stuff as well, like a fridge.”

“Where are you going to be staying?”

“Not where I bloody have, that’s for sure. I sort of thought here might be an option.”

Buffy looked around the crypt. “Like, here-here?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah. It’s got some power lines already.” He pointed to where a few wires dangled in a corner. “There must have been a call for lights during a ceremony at some point. I can have a fridge and a telly with a couch in front of it. Since you’re already in the graveyard quite a bit, it makes it a convenient spot.”

She pursed her lips together. “Okay, yeah. Actually, I can see it. Patrolling and then snacks on the couch while watching reruns. Maybe even a little making out on the couch.”

“Just making out?” he pouted.

“I don’t think the couch would survive anything else,” she said with a giggle. “The rest might be a floor only activity.”

“Anywhere, anytime,” he drawled, running his fingertips down her neck and tweaking one of her nipples.

“You’ve thought a lot about this.”

His gaze dropped. “I couldn’t sleep much at first. Not properly, anyway. Holding you…it made me dream impossible things.”

Buffy traced her fingers over his cheek. “Maybe not so impossible?”

“Maybe not.” He turned his face into her palm and kissed it. Now she was dreaming, too.  Not of normal, or not being the Slayer, but of sharing her life with someone who understood her.

“I have to go back to the dorms before my friends give me up for dead,” she whispered

Spike huffed, but sat up, bringing her along with him. “Make sure your Watcher checks out that pub. There was something in the beer last night.”

“I think that’s called alcohol.” Buffy stood and located her clothes.

Spike rolled his eyes. “It was more than that. I’ve been sloshed a great many times and it’s never made me feral.”

She paused with her pants halfway up her legs. “Feral?” she squeaked. “Like demon-in-charge feral?”

“Yeah. I still knew who I was and what was happening, but it was very firmly in the driver’s seat.” Spike was pulling his pants on and frowning at the zipper as he did it up. Buffy felt stunned, but he was right. She’d felt the same way. It’d still been her, but proto-Buffy had been mostly running the show.

With an effort, she managed to get her own pants all the way on. “But you didn’t try to hurt me.”

Spike looked puzzled. “I thought we established I don’t want to?”

“But…demon…” She turned her back towards him and yanked her shirt over her head, completely confused.  

Strong arms snaked around her. “Kitten, everything that I am doesn’t want to hurt you, and I’m bloody sure you do know what it wants to do with you.” He chuckled. “I understand that might not make sense to you because of things that happened in the past. But I’ll show you. I’ll show you I’m different. I promise. I’ll make you proud of me.”

Buffy turned in the circle of his arms and brought a hand to his face. “Okay. I…I’m going to do my best to trust you.”

“I promise, Buffy. You won’t regret this.”

She didn’t have an answer but kissed him softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be there.”

****

Buffy let herself into her dorm room, very aware that she badly needed a shower. She wasn’t sure her hair was screaming ‘I had sex with a vampire for hours’, but it was probably close. There were stickier reasons she needed a scrubbing as well.

Willow, who’d been seated at her desk, jumped to her feet. “Buffy!” she yelled, which made Buffy’s headache flare back to life and she winced.

“Hi, Willow. Is everything okay? Anything bad happen last night?”

“Except you disappearing with Spike, no. We thought he must have killed you.” Willow’s eyes were wide.

“He didn’t.” Buffy crossed her arms and sat on the side of the bed. “The beer at the pub was laced with something. I was not so much with the normal last night. It made me sort of cave-person Buffy. I need to tell Giles.”

Willow picked up the phone. “You need to tell him you’re okay. He’s been frantic. Spike kills Slayers! And Giles and Xander figured out about the beer. The pub’s owner was mad at the kids or something and wanted to get back at them. Anyway, Giles destroyed the chemistry set the owner was using to taint the beer and Xander planted a dead rat then called the health inspector. The place is closed down right now, maybe permanently.” Willow dialed Giles’ number and handed the receiver to Buffy, who put it to her ear.

Willow sat on her bed, her eyes running over Buffy, who again hoped nothing was declaring exactly how much she’d enjoyed Spike’s…everything. She didn’t plan on keeping him much of a secret but figured the best way of introducing him as her boyfriend wasn’t to start with how much she liked being naked with him.

“Willow?” Giles asked as he picked up.

“It’s Buffy.”

“Oh, thank goodness. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did Spike do anything to you?”

Buffy’s mind eagerly supplied a lot of mental images of what Spike had done to her, none of which she could tell her Watcher. “Uh, I’m fine. Spike didn’t hurt me.”

“Thank goodness.”

“You already said that.”

“But what happened? I know the formula which the pub’s proprietor was using was intended to bring out the baser natures of those who ingested it.” There was a sound and Buffy would bet twenty dollars Giles had just pinched the phone between his shoulder and ear so he could clean his glasses.

“Um, we sort of played tag. There was some dusting of vamps together, and then more tag.”

“Excuse me, did you say…tag?”

Buffy drummed her fingers on her leg. “Yeah, y’know, tag.”

“I have no earthly clue what you could possibly mean.”

She sighed. “Like the kid’s game. I’d chase him, catch him, pretend to stake him, and then he’d chase me, catch me, and pretend to bite. It was fun.”

“Fun?” Giles sounded like he’d never heard of the concept.

“Yeah. I guess the formula was wonky and just made us playful or something.” She felt a tiny bit bad with the half-truth, but announcing you’d had so much fun with your formal mortal enemy that you now wanted to spend lots of time with said mortal enemy wasn’t really a phone conversation.

“I see. Well, there have been a few sightings of the commandos that I’d like to go over with you. Do you think you can visit tonight before patrol?”

“Yup! I’ll be all over it. See you in a bit.”

Willow had a shrewd look on her face. She leaned forward. “Xander told me, but not Giles, that you kissed Spike.”

Buffy’s face instantly heated to a million degrees. “Oh.”

“Was there kissage?”

“Maybe?”

Willow eyed Buffy’s hair. “So…tag.”

“Yeah, lots and lots of tag.” Buffy stood and kicked off her boots before grabbing her shower caddy and a towel.

“Is there going to be more tag?” Willow asked, now leaning back on the bed and idly drumming her heels against the side.

“Probably.”

Willow raised her eyebrows.

“If the other tag player does what he says he’s going to, like getting a fridge and switching to pig’s blood.”

Willow shook her head. “I’d say you’re nuts, except you’ve sort of looked dreamy and been walking on air since you came in here. So, I take it Spike’s pretty good at playing tag?”

“You have no idea.” Buffy couldn’t help the happy sigh that leaked out.

“When you’re ready, I want tag details. Like how does he compare to Parker?”

Buffy giggled as she opened the door. “It’s not even the same game.”

****

It’d taken Buffy forever to figure out what to wear. She had trouble deciding what outfit said: ‘let’s kill things together’ without making her look like she was trying too much to get into Spike’s pants. Only she kind of was. Maybe?

Okay, totally.

In the end, she’d gone for jeans with a flared leg, boots with a small heel, and a purple shirt with a deep vee-neck that she’d paired with a push-up bra. She’d put her hair up in a ponytail and attempted to get her eye makeup to cooperate for a sultry appearance.

“How do I look?” she’d asked Willow.

Willow, from where she was sitting on her bed and studying, had glanced over the top of her chemistry book. “If you were going for dear-god-let’s-play-tag-now, then you nailed it.”

Buffy had almost changed, then squared her shoulders. Maybe that was what she was going for.

She’d had to keep herself from running to the cemetery after stopping by Giles’ place to hear the latest non-information he had on the commando guys. She settled on a fast walk. Would it be too much if she threw herself into Spike’s arms straight away? Would there be any patrolling done if she kissed him first? Maybe they should be patrol first and do lip stuff later?

At Restfield’s gates, she leaned against the wrought iron and tried to look casual as she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It wasn’t until the moon was high that she admitted to herself he wasn’t coming. She’d been stood up.

All the happy warm stuff in her chest turned cold.

It’d been lies. Another forever from a vampire that had been worth less than nothing. How had she been so stupid as to believe anything he said? Cuddling on a couch and watching TV in a crypt? She was so dumb. Spike was probably laughing his ass off at her, thinking she was just a silly little girl who’d fallen for a few sweet words and soft looks. He hadn’t been able to kill her so he’d gotten her in another way. The entire demon community probably knew by now that she’d slept with him and she’d never hear the end of it.

Jaw set, she drew her stake. It was time for something to die.


	4. Yowzah!

Willow ran her green highlighter over a passage in her textbook, checked the clock, and sighed. Buffy was a Giles’ place and then had patrol, so if Willow was lucky, she could pretend to be asleep and avoid talking to her friend altogether for the day.

Being around Buffy had gotten progressively less fun over the last couple of weeks. Willow wasn’t sure exactly what had happened on the night Buffy was supposed to meet Spike, only that he hadn’t showed. Her friend refused to talk about it any further than that. She’d come back late that night and slammed around the room before laying down in her bed and then tossing and turning the rest of the night.

The next morning, Buffy hadn’t said anything, though she’d looked a mess. Since then she’d been a prickly hedgehog about everything, snapping at minor irritations and flying off the handle over things like the store not having grape kool-aid in stock. Willow was at a loss. Spike didn’t seem like the kind of guy Buffy should have been expected anything from, but Willow didn’t think pointing that out was going to make Buffy feel any better. Mopage over Parker had been bad enough, but this was on a whole ‘nother level.

Part of the problem was that Buffy didn’t seem to want anyone to know how upset she was. Probably because she was upset over Spike, which Willow would guess was something Buffy didn’t want to share with Giles or Xander. Willow wished she knew more about Buffy and Spike’s night together besides that Buffy had been physical with him. Whatever he’d said to Buffy had gotten to her in a big way and then broken her heart when it’d turned out he’d lied.

Buffy was handling the aftermath like a cat that’d been dropped into a tub.

Once, Willow had forgotten her notebook for a late class and had come back to find Buffy curled up in bed and sobbing. Willow had sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on Buffy’s shoulder, but Buffy had immediately turned away. “I’m fine,” she’d mumbled. “Great.”  

Spike really needed more punching in the face than he usually did.

Willow frowned at her textbook. It wasn’t like Buffy had a monopoly on guys being poopheads. The whole Oz being away thing was still making Willow all jumbled, but he should be back any day now. Or at least for Thanksgiving. Maybe Christmas. She missed him terribly. He’d been her rock, or she thought he had. It turned out he was a rock on quicksand. Seeing him struggling with his wolf had made Willow a weensy bit more sympathetic to Buffy, because it was really hard to be with someone who had a whole part of themselves you didn’t understand and that made them do weird and sometimes awful things…and, geez, Buffy needed to stop falling for vampires.

There was a timid knock at the door. Willow hoped it wasn’t yet another person wanting copies of her notes. “Come in!” she called.

A black-clad shaped tumbled in and slammed the door shut before pressing his back against the chocolates poster. “Hello, Red,” the figure croaked.

Willow squeaked. Vampire! Evil vampire in her room! “Spike!” she yipped.

He didn’t respond. After a few seconds, Willow began to feel like something was wonky in the state of Denmark. Spike was scanning the room, his eyes darting from place to place. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, finally asking, “Buffy?”

“She’s not here,” Willow said. She tilted her head to the side. Spike looked kind of terrible. His hair was a mess and he was extra thin and pale compared to the last time she’d seen him.

“Are you sure?” He sounded shrill.

Willow snorted. “Yeah, she’s not hiding in the closet or something.” She relaxed. It didn’t seem like there’d be any broken bottles in the face this time around.

“Will she be back soon?”

“I don’t know. She’s at Giles’ place. And I don’t know if she’d want to see you anyway. She’s really mad at you.”

That got Spike’s attention. “M-m-mad? At me?”

“Uh, yeah?” Willow rolled her eyes. “You stood her up like three weeks ago. She was so happy for one day, then you no-showed, and it’s been bleak city since then.”

“Three weeks!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “No…no…it can’t have been that long. I thought it only felt like bloody eternity. Oh god, she’s going to think I…no…” His words broke off into a gut wrenching moan. He stumbled forward towards Buffy’s bed, shedding his duster as he went so it landed on the floor. He dropped face first onto the bed and Willow gasped.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his back was a sickening array of bruises, welts, and cuts in various stages of healing.

Willow abandoned her textbook and slid to her feet. “Spike, what happened?”

He shook his head.

Willow narrowed her eyes. “I’ve had to deal with Buffy being a mopey mess–“ Spike cried out and curled up on his side, his face in his hands. Her shoulders sagged and Willow felt bad. It didn’t look like he’d stayed away from Buffy of his own free will. Somebody had been hurting him big time. “Can you tell me just a little bit, so I know what happened?”

There was a pause, and then, haltingly, with his voice low, he began talking. “I’d gone to Willie’s and was walking out with an armful of blood, because I’d promised her, told her I would. And there were these blokes dressed in black from head to toe. I had somewhere to be and I didn’t want a fight, so I tried to walk past, all nonchalant like, but one of them hit me with something that knocked me out. I woke up in a white cell. They didn’t feed me at first, and when they did, it was drugged. I have long stretches I don’t remember.” Willow had to strain to hear the last. “And what I do remember I wish I sodding didn’t.”  

She was horrified, but at the same time alarms were going off in her brain. “Did these guys look or sound like they were military?”

Spike nodded. “Called themselves the Initiative.” He reached a hand up to brush over the side of his head. “They did something to my noggin. Put something in it. I can’t hurt anyone, not even to defend myself. They thought that was funny.”

While Willow was fairly certain she didn’t like Spike much, the idea that this kind of thing was going on in Sunnydale was making her ill. “How’d you get away?”

“Pretended to drink the drugged blood and laid on the floor. When they came to get me, I made a run for it.”

“Were you followed?”

Spike lifted his head. “I don’t think so?” He glanced around nervously and sat up, suddenly on edge.

Willow pursed her lips. Between all the random supernatural badies and now the commandos running around, she’d made something to magically hide people in the dorm room as a just-in-case, but it was supposed to be for emergencies. Spike reached over and grabbed Buffy’s pillow, dropping his face into it as his shoulders started shaking. Okay, this was an emergency. Grabbing a little brass bell off her desk she whispered a few words and rang it once. “There. Now the soldier guys won’t be able to see us in here. The room is secure for 24 hours. They could open the door and look and it’d appear empty, and if they try to come in they’ll find they have an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Because Buffy lives here she’ll be able to see us and the magic would protect her and let her in, but only us three, and only you because you were in here already.” She was rather impressed with herself. The feel of the magic taking hold and shielding the space was heady stuff. She reached for the phone. “I’m going to call Buffy.”

“She’s mad at me!” Spike wailed into the pillow.

“It’s not you she’s going to be mad at in a second.” Willow called Giles’ apartment and was relieved when it was Buffy that answered. Coming up with a lie to get her on the phone would have been tricky.

“Yeah?” Buffy said curtly and Willow sighed. Hopefully Buffy would stop with the cranky now.

“Spike’s here,” Willow whispered into the receiver.

Buffy snorted. “I see you’re still alive, so that’s good. What could he possibly want?” If Willow didn’t know Buffy as well as she did, the flippant tone would have fooled her into thinking Buffy couldn’t care less about Spike showing back up, but Willow did know her, and the undertone of pain made Willow ache.  

“It’s not like that. You know the commandos we’ve been trying to figure out? They took Spike, the night he was supposed to meet you, and they really weren’t very nice to him. He’s sitting on your bed and crying into your pillow, and I think he’d really like to see you. Can you come home for a bit? I know you and Giles were researching something and you’ve been sort of upset lately, but I think it’d be a good idea if you at least talked to Spike.” There was no reply. “Buffy? Buffy?”

There was the sound of footsteps. “Hello, Willow?” Giles’ voice came over the line.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“What’d you say to Buffy? She dropped the phone and went running out of here as if her hair was on fire. Are you alright?”

Willow blanked. “Um, I just…everything’s okay. We’re fine, um, I mean I’m fine. I reminded her she had a paper due tomorrow that she hadn’t started yet. And it’s worth a bunch of her grade in…that class.”

“I see.” Giles’ tone said he wasn’t buying it at all. “Well, when this paper is completed, have her call me, we were discussing alternative patrol routes due to the commando’s presence in Sunnydale.”

“I’ll totally tell her. Uh, sorry, bye.” Willow hung up and crossed her arms. Spike was still crying. She quirked her lips. What did you do with a weeping vamp? That was not something Giles had ever covered. She awkwardly reached out and patted his hand where it had a death grip on the pillow. She had an extra coke, but wasn’t sure Spike would appreciate the offer. There was an awkward silence on her part and muffled crying on Spike’s.

Luckily, she was saved after a few minutes as an out of breath Buffy burst through the door. She stood, panting, staring at the vampire on her bed with wide eyes. Her jeans and blue halter top were askew while her hair was a wind-blown tangle. She must have sprinted the whole way to the dorm.

Spike had raised his head and was staring back at Buffy, looking for all the world like he was seeing a ghost.

“Buffy,” he whispered, then, with a cry, he threw himself onto his knees at her feet. He wrapped his arms around her legs and pressed the side of his head against her hip. Buffy rested a hand on the top of his head like a benediction. Willow watched as Buffy took in his injuries and patch of hair that was shorn short. Buffy’s expression went from stunned to grim determination. The Initiative was so going to be in for it.

Spike was babbling half formed apologies and nearly incoherent explanations.

“I’m here,” Buffy was murmuring. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Willow didn’t think either Buffy or Spike was even aware of her anymore. Her suspicions were confirmed as Buffy unwound Spike’s arms from around her and helped him to stand. Buffy carefully molded her body against him and pressed her lips to his. Spike’s eyes slid shut and his fingers wove into her hair as a deep groan left his throat.

Willow knew she didn’t have a lot of time before she started seeing things above the paygrade of best friend. Grabbing her bag, she threw in the textbook she’d been reading along with her extra coke. “Bye, guys! I’m going to go to the library to study. I probably won’t be back until late.” Neither Slayer nor vampire even glanced in her direction. Buffy had an arm around his neck and the other hand on his ass and Willow knew it was totally time to make like a tree.

Once in the hallway, with the dorm room door locked behind her, she shouldered her bag and headed for the stairs. As she turned the corner on the first landing, she ran right into someone. “Riley?” Willow said in confusion, looking up at the tall guy she’d collided with. He was dressed in green cargo pants and a grey knit sweater, with a walky-talky in his hand.

“Hi, uh, Willow, right? Buffy’s friend?” The walky-talky disappeared into the cargo pocket of his pants.

“That’s me.” Something was way off. “Why are you in Stevenson?”

“Um, there was this thing…with a paper. Is Buffy here?”

Why would a T.A. be trying to track down a single student where she lived? This whole situation was so fishy it needed its own aquarium. “No,” she said, praying her magic was doing its job of hiding Spike and Buffy.

“There’s another guy I was looking for from class. He’s shorter than me, bleached hair, was wearing a black coat?”

Willow vigorously shook her head. That sounded like Spike, not a student. The 101 class was big, but not so big that she would have missed seeing a guy like that. Which meant Riley had to be involved in this whole Initiative thing. Her heart felt like it was going to explode in her chest it was pounding so hard at the realization that Riley wasn’t who or what she’d thought he was. She squeezed past him. “I have to get to the library for a Chem study session, so, um, laters?”

“See you tomorrow.” Riley smiled and gave a friendly wave that she awkwardly returned. The smile appeared genuine but now that Willow knew he was hiding something–an icky, torture-sentient-creatures something–it became creepy, a mask of normalcy to cover the ugly truth. She dashed down the stairs and out into the night.

There was a moment of indecision, but then she turned towards Giles’ place instead of the library. She needed familiar faces and Giles should know what was going on. Or an abbreviated, PG version, anyway. Xander and Anya should be clued in too. Willow crossed her arms and bit her lip. What was with this Initiative? Why was it here? And, more importantly, how could they stop it?

She glanced up at her dorm room as she crossed the quad. The lights were on and the curtains closed. After tonight it looked like she was going to have to get know Spike a whole lot better. Which was a weird thought. But if Buffy trusted him, she’d give it a shot.

Her mind flashed to Oz for a second and she wished he’d come back home soon. With both Xander and Buffy having significant others it was going to suck being the fifth wheel. She tried out the mental image of Spike sitting with them at Giles’ place helping out and found she could easily picture it, but mostly with Spike’s tongue down Buffy’s throat. Ugh, were they going to be like that all the time? Willow tended to think of Spike as annoying, but at least he wasn’t Angel.

Yowzah! Angel. Oh man, he was going to be pissed over Spike macking on Buffy. Willow grinned as she walked down the sidewalk. It was going to be fun when he found out. Cordy was supposedly working for him in L.A., maybe Willow could call her and get her to take pictures of his face when someone told him? It’d be priceless and serve him right for being a jerky jerk-face that left Buffy miserable so he could go play detective.

Willow’s hand tightened on the strap of her bookbag as she walked.

Buffy and Spike.

That was going to take a little getting used to. But he seemed really into her, and Willow could understand why Buffy would dig that. And okay, so it was wiggy that Buffy was probably getting horizontal with Spike right that minute. Willow’s face scrunched up. That didn’t need too much thinking about. Oh, eww. They wouldn’t…on her bed, right?

Willow’s mind was churning. Being dead, wouldn’t Spike be all clammy? How did his, um, thing work if he didn’t have circulation? She had so many questions. Buffy had never said much about her night with Angel, which was kind of understandable. Willow wondered if there was much of a difference or if one vamp was just like the other in the sack. Maybe there could be ice cream and girl talk in the future? Willow sorely missed those kinds of chats. 

First, though, the Scoobies had to solve this Initiative puzzle. Willow squared her shoulders. She was on the case, and those meanies were going to get just what they deserved. Only why did she have to be the one to tell Giles about Spike? Life so wasn’t fair.


	5. Yes!

Buffy broke the kiss and looked up into Spike’s face. He was trembling against her. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I’m sorry, luv,” he said for about the eight millionth time.

She really, really wanted to punch something commando-shaped.

“Was supposed to be different,” he mumbled.

“I know,” she said. He pulled her against his chest and she leaned into his embrace with her arms loosely around his hips, unsure where to touch that wouldn’t hurt him. Spike buried his nose in her hair and took deep breaths. Smelling her, she figured out. Which probably should have been gross, but at the moment seemed sweet.

“Thought about you all the time in that hellhole. You got me through.” The confession was a barely-there whisper. It made her feel broken. Not once had she believed it’d been anything other than his choice to ditch her. She hadn’t been capable of imagining he was somewhere alone and hurting, she’d just been wrapped up in how wronged she’d felt.

Her anger spread to include every guy who’d ever walked away from her and then spread to herself.

She pushed out of his arms and turned away from him so she wouldn’t have to see his expression. Putting both hands on the door, she braced herself. “I’m sorry, I should have done something…anything. I spent zero time looking for you. I thought you’d skipped town and were having a laugh at my expense.”

There was a beat, then his fingers ran up her spine, cool even through her blouse, before settling in a loose grip on the nape of her neck. “It’s okay, luv. You couldn’t have known so don’t beat yourself up about it. But I still want to prove to you that I’m not Ang…that I can be more.”

She rested her forehead against the poster on the door. Great. Now the guy who’d been kidnapped and tortured was trying to make her feel better. Buffy the selfish. That’s not who she wanted to be. If he could be more, there was no reason she couldn’t be as well. “Spike, you kind of look like hell—”

“Thanks, kitten. I’ll try to remember to bring a comb next time I’m abducted by government goons.” It sounded like there might be a smile behind his words, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn and see.

“You need…I can make it better. You have to be hungry.” She tapped the side of her neck to show she didn’t mean going out for burgers. Part of her was terrified, a bigger part felt she owed it to him for thinking so badly of him, and a teeny, tiny part she refused to examine was quivering with excitement.

Spike’s hand fell away from her as he molded himself to her back. He placed his hands beside hers on the door and nuzzled her ear before pressing a kiss to the spot on her neck she’d touched.

“Buffy.” His voice was hoarse. “I can’t tell you how much you offering means to me.”

Her eyes slid shut and she could hardly breathe, waiting for his fangs. That tiny part of herself she was refusing to acknowledge was getting louder and more insistent. Her nipples were tight points scraping against the lace of her bra.

Spike sighed, his breath cool on her neck, making her shiver involuntarily. “You’d taste like heaven, but I can’t.”

“Are you scared you wouldn’t be able to stop? Because I don’t think you’d take more than was safe. With the beer, your demon was in charge and it never even tried to do anything I didn’t want it to.”

Spike pressed an open mouth kiss to her throat and her head fell back as she moaned.

“Kitten,” he groaned. “I didn’t say I don’t want to, just that I can’t. The soldiers shoved a bit of something in my head. I can’t hurt anybody, even involuntarily, without it going off and giving me the kind of headache that drops me like a shot. No matter how careful I was, it’d hurt when I bit and then I’d be no good to you or anyone for a while. Curled up in pain on your floor is not how I fancy this night going.”

Couldn’t cause anyone pain? That meant Spike couldn’t defend himself. They’d rendered him helpless. It was a death sentence for a demon. She got angry at the commandos all over again. “Well, how do you, uh, fancy, it going then? I have more than one knife, I could cut my arm—”

“I’m hungry, yeah, but I can bloody well eat later. It wasn’t death, mayhem, or even blood, I craved in that sodding cell.” His body undulated against hers, ending with the very hard evidence of his desire pressed against her backside.

“Sex?” she said, wigging her hips. Desire was pooling into a lake of fire between her hipbones.

Spike made an exasperated noise. “Not just…you, Buffy! I already told you, it was you I thought about. Dreamed about. Want to touch you, taste you, smell you all mixed up with me. Want your warmth and your heartbeat. You’re intoxicating, beautiful, magnificent. Want to drown in you.”

Buffy opened her eyes and spun so her back was against the door. His arms were caging her in, only she didn’t feel trapped. The raw passion and need on his face made her knees weak. He was hers in a way no one had ever been before. He was holding nothing back and it frightened her how easily she could shatter him. Or make him whole.

Buffy cupped his face in his hands and kissed him fiercely, trying to pour everything she felt and didn’t have words for into it. Spike was confusing, infuriating, and she wanted him very badly.

His tongue drove itself between her lips, tangling with hers and dominating her mouth. He was growling faintly and grinding his hard-on against her belly. She ghosted her hands down his chest, afraid to touch him too firmly in case she accidentally aggravated one of his wounds. His belt buckle jingled as she undid it before popping open the button of his jeans. She undid the zipper and pushed the rough fabric down his hips.

Spike hissed into her mouth as she wrapped her palms around his cock. He broke the kiss, his head falling back while he moaned loudly and thrust into her hands. “So warm,” he breathed. “So bloody warm.”

How long had it been since he’d had any release? When they’d been together? Even she’d angrily rubbed herself off several times since then, unable to stop her body from remembering how he’d made it sing even as she’d cursed him for leaving. Buffy doubted the Initiative was the kind of place to give you any alone time, so he had to be in need.

She stroked him firmly and his cock bucked in her grasp. She kissed his neck and sucked lightly on his Adam’s apple, thrilling at the animalistic noises that vibrated in his throat.

Pre-come was leaking from the broad head of his dick, the fluid wet on her fingers as she sped up the pace of her hands. He grunted, then gasped. “Christ, woman, need to get you—”

Driven more by instinct than any conscious thought, she bit down lightly on the skin of his neck.

Spike thrashed in her grasp and howled her name as his cock jerked and his come splattered her shirt. Buffy continued stroking as he shuddered through his orgasm, his face awash in pained pleasure. She pressed kisses to the corner of his lips and the end of his nose. Finally, his eyes opened to meet her and she grinned, but his brows drew together.

He looked down and his expression was puzzled as he stared at the come on her shirt. “Was supposed to make you …not…” One of his hands became a fist and he punched the door beside her ear, making her jump. “Bloody brilliant,” he was muttering, seemingly to himself. “Good going, pillock, you’re supposed to make the girl feel good, make her want you, not act like a sodding animal and soil her clothes because you can’t control yourself…” He started to turn away from her and she caught his shoulder, confused.

“Spike?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead reaching down and tugging his pants up around his waist.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, confused. He was supposed to be happy and kissing her before laying her on the bed so they could make love all night long. Or snuggle and sleep if he needed to. She was flexible. But he looked miserable, not thrilled.

His face fell. “Oh, luv, no. Not at all, it’s me that’s the royal bloody git.”

“What did you do? It’s just a shirt. And I’m sure it’ll wash out.”

Spike looked pained. “I wanted to make you scream, Buffy, yell the rafters down. Come so hard you were blind with it, not lose all my self-control and cream on you like I’ve never seen a woman before.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “So what’s stopping you? And for the record, getting you all crazy made me feel wonderful, powerful, but not in the I-can-punch-you-into-next-week way that being the Slayer does. I was nice, to feel like a girl for once. And again, that’s it? We’re done for the night?” She raised her brows.  

The expression on Spike’s face while she’d been talking had gone from upset, to awe, to irritation. He settled his hands on her hips.

“So?” she asked, trying to sound bored.

In the next instant, she was looking at the ridges and fangs of Spike’s demon face. He picked her up and carried her, while she laughed and squealed, to her bed. He dropped her on her back and crawled onto the mattress so he was straddling and pinning her legs. She stilled under him as he bent over and pressed his cheek to hers.

His hands wandered up and stroked her neck briefly before he grabbed the front of her blouse and ripped. He sat up, tilted his head to the side, and ripped open her bra as well. She started to protest, because, hey, expensive—but then his lips closed around one nipple and her words became a whimper.

He nibbled, licked, sucked, and nuzzled her breasts, until they, and her clit, were swollen and aching. Her nipples were hardened points, straining towards the ceiling and throbbing with need. It was almost a relief when Spike abandoned them to kiss down her stomach. His cool tongue darted into her navel, making her squirm and clutch at his hair. He chuckled and his fingers dove under the waistband of her jeans. He didn’t bother with the fastenings. With a growl, he shredded the front and sides, pulling the remains of them off her legs until she was left in nothing but her pale pink panties and her sneakers.

Spike trailed his fingers over her exposed legs as he crawled down her body, making her shiver, until he was standing at the foot of the bed. He pulled her shoes and socks off, letting them drop to the floor, then wrapped his palm around her ankles and yanked. She ended up with her rear right on the edge of the bed and her thighs spread wide. He dropped her legs, letting them dangle and crashed to his knees.

Closing his eyes, he nuzzled against her panty covered core.

“Spike,” she whispered, propping herself up on her elbows.  “You can do that later—”

He shook his head. “No, luv, now.” His eyes rose to meet hers and his gaze was intense. “You don’t understand. This, my tongue on your sweet puss, that’s what I imagined over and over again when things…got bad. No matter what those tossers did, they couldn’t take this from me.” He dropped his face back to her mons and breathed in deeply. “I need it to be real.” She could feel his lips moving against her as he spoke. His gaze found hers again. “This is real, right? Buffy?” His voice was tight with fear.

She rubbed a foot against his side. “It’s real. I’m here.” Buffy had thought she’d understood vengeance and the need for it before. After Jenny…Buffy’d thought she’d gotten it. She’d been wrong. Looking at Spike’s terrified face as he doubted that he was really with her and not still in an Initiative cell and seeing the marks left on him by people who thought he was less than an animal…she wanted to hurt them. For taking him, for taking her peace of mind, for causing pain to someone she cared for and had decided was hers.

“Buffy?” Spike asked, his brows drawn together. She was nearly growling in her anger.

“I’m going to make them pay, Spike.” She dropped back and glared at the ceiling. “I’m going to make them wish they’d never, ever dared touch what’s mine.”

Spike made a choked, happy noise and in the next instant he’d scooped her legs up so they were over his shoulders. The fabric of her panties tore easily under his fingers and she lifted her hips so he could pull the scraps away. Her eyes slid closed as his tongue hesitantly drew a line from her opening to her clit. He circled her nub and she moaned, the happiness of feeling his cool tongue against her fevered skin nearly matching the pleasure of it.

Her noise of enjoyment must have lit a fire because Spike went wild. His tongue swept in broad strokes, then drove up inside her, making her cry out. He suckled her clit and nipped at her pubic hair. It was an overwhelming symphony. Her fingers dug into the sheets, gripping them tightly, helpless to do anything but hang on as he worked her mercilessly. He finally settled on lashing her clit with his tongue, bringing her to the edge before he gentled his touch.

She growled in frustration and tried to push her hips up higher to force him to satisfy her.

Spike tutted and put a hand on her stomach to keep her pinned to the bed. “I’m going to have my fun, Slayer,” he said with a chuckle.

“Ack, fun some other time.” She nearly dug her heels into his back before remembering he was hurt. Defeated, she slumped against the bed. “Please?”

He chuckled again, his mouth on her clit, and the vibrations made her body roll. “All in good time.”

Stupid vampire. He would so pay for this later. She’d use her mouth on him until he was just about to get off and stop and see how he liked it. The corners of her mouth turned up. Oh yeah, he’d be trembling with need and she’d make him wait as she ever so slowly licked his big, hard…

“Kitten?” Spike said, stopping and propping his chin on her mons. “Care to share what’s going on in that mind of yours? I thought you were already slick as hell and you just gave me more.”

Cracking one eye open, she looked at him. “Going to suck you until you beg me to let you come.”

Spike’s eyes rolled up and he groaned. “Fuck,” he muttered and his lips fastened around her clit. His tongue flicked and tapped it and this time he didn’t stop. Her head whipped back and forth on the bed and her thighs quivered. Squeaking something that was probably his name, she came. Fireworks exploded behind her eyelids as bliss washed out from her core to fill her entire body. He didn’t stop, and less than a minute later a second orgasm crashed into her, making her jerk her hips and cry out.

“There’s a girl,” Spike panted against her once she’d calmed. “But I want more.”

More?

Oh god. He slid a finger, then two, inside her. Curling and angling them until he hit just the right spot. She nearly sobbed with the pleasure. His tongue was swirling around her clit, giving her just enough friction while the pressure from his fingers remained the focus. He withdrew his hand a little, only to thrust it forward and tap against that perfect spot again. Her hips were moving of their own volition and her teeth were dug into her bottom lip.

No stopping, no stopping, no…

Her climax hit like a freight train. She gasped as her vision whited out and her inner walls clamped down around his fingers, pulsing as he continued to fuck her with them. In and out, in and out. Nothing in the world existed except the slide of his fingers and the swipe of his tongue. Not even the rest of her body. She came again, groaning hoarsely.

Spike paused and kissed her inner thigh. “More, luv. Give me more.” His cool breath made her shiver.

His hand picked up its rhythm again. Gah, she was going to fail every class she had because her brain was never going to recover from this. A tiny part of her was also wigged that what Spike had wanted most when he’d been captured was her pleasure, not his own.

There was a brief pause, but this time when his hand moved there was a prod lower down. She sucked in a breath as a finger breached somewhere she had never imagined being touched.

She started to sit up, to protest, but as if anticipating her actions, Spike had a hand on her belly, keeping her flat as he murmured soothingly against her over sensitized clit. Huffing out a breath, she slowly relaxed. He wasn’t hurting her. Buffy could feel him grin at having won, and then his tongue went back to work.  

Embarrassment fled as another climax built.

“Yes,” she mumbled. “Yes, yes, yes…Yes!”

Her body tightened and she writhed under his touch, her hips lifting as he continued to move his hand in a steady rhythm and worship her clit with his mouth.

Her back arched when her peak hit, the clench of her body around the fingers in her pussy and the one lower down sending a bolt of pure bliss through her that erupted from her mouth as a scream. She clawed at the bed, desperate for an anchor in the maelstrom of pleasure whipping through her.

Spike didn’t stop. The thrust of his fingers or the lash of his tongue. She shuddered, not sure how much more she could take. Her heart felt like it was going to burst and her bones melt. Another scream burst from her as another orgasm caught her. It was almost painful in its intensity and she was shattering apart.

Spike finally let her go and she scrambled backward until she was propped up against the pillows and wooden headboard. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath and her whole body was quaking with aftershocks. Buffy opened her eyes, watching as Spike stood. He was wearing a smug grin on his face as if he knew her world had just been changed in ways she didn’t even understand yet.

“Always wanted to hear you scream,” he said, one hand splayed on his abdomen. Her eyes dropped lower. He still had his jeans on, but the fly was undone and his cock was visible, stiff and straining. The head was a dark purple and precum was beading on the tip.

Buffy could hardly believe it was her body that pulsed with desire when a second ago she’d felt more sated than she’d thought it was possible to be. Her eyes returned to his grinning face. “Fill me,” she whispered.

Spike’s expression turned serious. He climbed onto the bed and prowled up her body. Impatiently, he pushed his jeans down far enough not to hinder him, then had her wrap her legs around his waist.

“I’ll hurt you,” she said, not wanting to add to his pain.

He shook his head. “I need to feel you, luv. Need you tight around me.”

His lips tasted of her as he kissed her, slow and sweet. When his mouth left hers, he brought a hand up and tapped her nose before trailing his fingers down her body. He patted her pubic hair then wrapped his fist around his cock and positioned the broad head at her opening. She was so wet, so ready, that he sank easily into her.

The stretch made her hips roll as she gloried in welcoming him home.

He sheathed himself completely and paused, trembling. She brought her hands to his face. “Make love to me,” she said, her heart swelling with an emotion she couldn’t name at the moment as his face became awed. His lips returned to hers and his tongue gently glided over and around hers. The thrust of his hips was slow and steady, and, to her surprise, she quickly came again, the sensation one of liquid, golden warmth. It felt as if she should be glowing.

Spike cuddled even closer to her as her pussy pulsed and fluttered. His mouth left hers and he kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck. He buried his face there and the pace of his lovemaking increased. “Buffy,” he moaned, low and deep. It made her heart flutter.

Trying to avoid any obvious bruises, she wrapped her arms around his back and pressed up against him. His muscles were flexing and straining as he thrust into her.

“Buffy,” he said again and there was so much raw emotion in that one word.

“Shh,” she murmured. “It’s okay, Spike. I’m here. I’m right here. I have you. You can fall and I’ll catch you.”

He surged into her a few more times before stiffening and coming with a faint cry against her throat. Inside her, his cock jerked and she could feel the cool rush of his come as he spent himself.

All his muscles seemed to loosen at once and he collapsed on top of her, shoulders quivering. She thought he might be weeping, but didn’t want to force him to acknowledge it. Instead, she gently petted the back of his neck and made comforting sounds.

Finally, he grew still. “I want to stay like this forever,” he said, voice hoarse.

Buffy almost scoffed. There was that word again, forever. She really needed to talk to him about that. Vampire forever was not the same as Slayer forever, which he should know all too well.

But not now. At the moment, she wanted this thing between them, whatever it was exactly and whatever it meant, to never end.

So she said the only thing she could. “Okay.”

****

It was hours later that Buffy woke to the sound of the phone ringing. The naked vampire spooned against her back reached over, picked up the receiver, and immediately dropped it back onto the cradle.

The phone rang again.

He picked it up and held the speaker to his mouth. “Sod off.” He hung up and put his arm around her as she giggled.

After a moment the phone rang once more, and this time Buffy nabbed the receiver first. “Hello?” she said. Her voice was ten kinds of froggy from being asleep.

“Buffy?” It was Willow. “We need to talk.”


	6. Yeesh!

Willow looked around Giles’ living room as Buffy’s sleepy voice came across the line: “What do we need to talk about?” Willow was so glad it was Buffy, after having nearly died of embarrassment when Spike had answered.

Giles and Xander still looked a little shocked, as if her telling them, several times, that Buffy was together-together with Spike hadn’t made the fact sink in nearly as much as that “sod off” had. Willow debated saying something about Buffy being on speaker, but Willow figured it didn’t matter.

“Hey, so, um, can you guys come over right after dark? The protection spell is almost at its twenty-four-hour mark when it goes kablooey, so if the commandos come back you guys won’t be safe. And we should talk shop since Spike’s going to know lots more stuff about the Initiative than we do. Giles, Xander, and especially Anya are really upset that this sort of whacked out stuff is happening in Sunnydale.”

Buffy snorted. “You think? I’d be more upset if they weren’t worried.” There was a pause. “Spike’s safe if I bring him, right? No stakeage when he walks in? Because he’s really my boyfriend, Willow.” There was a noise and then it sounded like Buffy put her hand over the receiver, only she must not have been doing a great job of it because what was being said was still clear.

“You mean that?” Spike rumbled.

“Of course I do, you dolt. I didn’t spend the whole night wrapped around you because I was planning to kick you to the curb this morning.”

“Buffy,” Spike murmured, and there were soft noises Willow suspected was kissing.

Willow blushed and Xander and Giles shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Anya was eyeing the phone speculatively.

“No trying to stake Spike, right?” Willow whispered and the guys shook their heads, even if they didn’t look thrilled. “Buffy,” she said louder and the face-sucking sounds stopped. “Spike’s safe here.”

“Cool.” Buffy yawned. “What time is it anyway?”

“Like three in the afternoon,” Willow responded. “It’s a good thing it’s fall break or you would have missed your lectures again.”

“Huh,” Buffy said, not sounding very concerned.

“Speaking of classes, do you remember Riley from our psych class?”

“The T.A.?”

“Yeah, the one that’s always making eyes at you?”

A growl thundered down the phone line.

“I don’t make eyes back,” Buffy said, sounding both exasperated and pleased. The growling stopped.

“That one. He, um, was in the dorms as I was leaving last night, with a walky-talky and loads of shiftiness.”

“Do you think he’s part of this Initiative?” Buffy’s voice was suddenly all business.

“Yeah, I do. Watch out for him Buffy, and don’t trust him.”

“I won’t. We can talk about this more, later. Right after sunset Spike and I will head that way, but we have to stop for Thanksgiving groceries first.”

“Okay, don’t forget rolls.”

“Uh-huh.” Buffy sounded distracted. There was a clatter as if she’d dropped the phone and then a breathy moan. Willow hurriedly hung up.

“Yeesh,” Xander said. “Do I really have to play nice?”

“Mostly?” Willow said. “He’s really into her and I think she’s pretty into him, though it’s Buffy so it’s sort of hard to tell. But maybe be nice until he does something that deserves you being mean to him.”

Anya nodded. “Vampires can be very loyal. It’s surprising more Slayers don’t end up paired up with them.”

Giles wrinkled his brow and looked at her. “But—”

“I know you had a bad experience before, but everyone in the demon world knows Angelus, I mean Angel, is a weirdo. It’d be like judging all human behavior on Charles Manson. Angel’s not normal, even for a vampire. Chaos and bloodshed, sure, but not the rest of it.” Anya shuddered. “So I agree with Willow. Give Spike a chance. If he’s willing to change for Buffy, he deserves respect.” She clasped her hands between her knees. “It’s not easy being forced, by a chip or anything else, to give up who you were. But the right person can make it a little better.”

Xander was beside her in a second. “Hey, Ayn.” He kissed her cheek. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you. Sorry, I’m not so good at saying that kind of thing.”

“You’re a man.” Anya sniffed.

“Guilty as charged. Are you going to come and watch me be manly while digging a hole tomorrow?”

Anya perked up. “Of course!”

“And I promise I won’t be too with the judgment about whoever Buffy drags in here, okay?”

“Thank you,” Anya said, putting a hand on his arm.

One down. Willow turned towards Giles, who was still glowering in the general direction of the phone. After another minute, he sighed. “Fine, Willow. But if we’re all too dead to enjoy our dessert on Thursday, I shall not restrain myself from saying ‘I told you so’.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that.”

Giles looked at the phone again and Willow hoped he wasn’t picturing what was going on at the other end of the line in the dorm room. “Actually, I almost hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

****

Buffy hesitated for only a second once they were outside the dorm before she threaded her arm under Spike’s duster and around his waist. She ran her thumb over the bare skin above his hipbone. He really needed a shirt. Well, not really, but it’d make cooking easier since she’d be less distracted. Maybe Giles could loan him something.

Spike looked surprised for a moment, then slung his arm over her shoulders with a wide grin.

They strolled unhurriedly across campus. Buffy knew he was doing the same as her, watching every shadow to make sure it didn’t conceal a commando, but it was also nice just to be out with him. She felt like she could be any girl out with her boyfriend.

“I’m thinking we’ll hit the Albertson’s on the way. It’s not my favorite, but they’re usually pretty good with stocking close to holidays.”

“It’s going to be a bloody zoo.”

“It’s two days before Thanksgiving. Everywhere is going to be a circus. I’m entirely entrusting you with going fangy and ensuring us a good turkey, even if you have to wrestle it out of the hands of a little old lady.”

Spike chuckled. “Hellion when it comes to poultry, are you?”

“I’ve never hosted Thanksgiving before and I really want this one to go okay.” Everything had been so off-kilter lately and it felt like she had to do this. Real, responsible adults made Thanksgiving dinner and made the day good for their friends and family. She needed to show Giles and everyone she wasn’t a kid.

Spike stopped and turned to face her. He brushed the hair out of her eyes. “It will be. You’re brilliant, luv, at everything you do. Getting peas and mashed potatoes on the table for your chums won’t be any different.”

She blushed. He was so earnest that she couldn’t do anything but believe him. His faith made her think that maybe she could depend on herself and her decisions, even if it was only about which brand of apple pie filling to purchase. In thanks, she pressed her lips to his and relished the astonished and happy noise he made.

It was only a chaste kiss and had barely begun before a girl, careless and laughing, bumped into Buffy.

“Sorry,” the girl mumbled as she flicked her dark hair over her shoulder. Her eyes went a little wide as she caught sight of Spike’s bare chest. Buffy nearly growled before she remembered it didn’t matter who looked since she was the one touching. To make the point, Buffy turned and leaned her back against Spike’s front. His arms locked around her waist. She frowned, he was rigid and his chest was rumbling with an actual growl.

She glanced up and followed his gaze.

Oh, geez. The ditzy girl wasn’t alone and the guy holding her hand was none other than Parker. Buffy rolled her eyes. “Let’s go,” she whispered.

Spike didn’t reply and his grip on her tightened. For an instant, Buffy thought he was going to throw her over his shoulder and tote her off caveman style.

Parker dropped the other girl’s hand, who didn’t look happy about that, and crossed his arms. He was frowning. “Hey, Buffy, I thought you said you weren’t going out with this guy.”

Buffy shrugged. “I wasn’t then. Am now. Don’t know why you care, anyway.”

“I…he just seems like trouble and you’re a nice girl, Buffy. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Spike’s hold on her loosened and he snorted. “What a nasty bit of work you are, mate. Does this one,” he gestured at the dark-haired girl, “know about your mission to get in the pants of every freshman girl? Do you even care about the sex—which I’ve heard is nothing to write home about—or do you just like to see ‘em cry the next morning when they realize you’re that special kind of ass who gets off on breaking hearts?” The dark-haired girl’s eyes had gone very round. “And while I might want to kill you for what you did to Buffy, I won’t, because you being a bloody git meant I got the chance to show her what a real man can do for her.”

Spike’s hand spread over her belly and he rolled his hips against her rear to emphasize his point. She probably should protest, but…yeah! So instead she glared at Parker.

“Though if I ever see or hear from her lips that you’ve so much as spoken to my girl ever again, they’ll be dragging the ponds around here looking for you, if you get my drift.” A rush ran up Buffy’s spine and she knew Spike had let his gameface show for just a second. All the color drained from Parker’s face. He muttered something unintelligible and took off running, leaving the dark-haired girl awkwardly standing there by herself.

“Um, thanks?” she said tentatively.

“Good riddance, pet,” Spike said. “Now I’m sure you’ve got a party to be at, so run along.”

The girl brightened. “Hey, yeah, I can totally make Megan’s thing now! Bye!” The girl waved and headed in a different direction than Parker had.

Buffy sighed and turned in Spike’s arms so she could see his face. “Y’know, I fantasize about Parker all the time.” Spike’s scarred eyebrow went sky high and she raised a hand to trace her fingertips over it. “Entirely about how much I really want to hit him with sticks.” Spike groaned and looked skyward, then crashed his lips into hers.

“Want to stick you,” he grumbled.

“Shopping first,” Buffy squeaked as his hand possessively grabbed her ass.

With a sigh, he let her go. “Good to know where I rank,” he said, but his tone was teasing.

She linked her arm with his and they started walking again. “I’m only dating you because of the number of bags you can carry.”

“Ah-ha! I knew it!”

****

Willow bounded over to the door when the knock came. Xander and Giles were sitting on the couch while Anya was slumped in a chair, reading a magazine.

Opening the door, she found Buffy and Spike loaded down with grocery store bags. Spike had his duster done up and was cradling a turkey in his arms that looked like it could feed a small army.

“You found the blue whale of turkeys,” she said.

“Tell me about it,” Spike grumbled.

“We need to have enough for everyone,” Buffy said as she breezed through the door. “Giles, invite Spike in.”

Giles had pulled off his glasses and was rubbing the lenses with enough vigor that Willow was worried he was going to change their prescription. “Do come in, Spike,” he said, not looking up.

Spike walked through the door and followed Buffy into the kitchen. “Where do you want everything, lamb?”

Xander and Giles exchanged glances as Giles settled his glasses back on his nose.

“Cold stuff in the fridge and most of the rest we can leave on the counter.” Buffy, free of bags, leaned partway out of the kitchen. “I think some of you have met, but everyone, this is Spike and Spike, this is everyone.”

Spike grunted something as he opened the fridge and frowned at the interior while Buffy stood beside him with the turkey.

“There’s blood on the top shelf for Spike,” Willow said. “The butcher guaranteed it was fresh.”

“Ta, pet.” Spike looked over the top of the fridge door at her. “Once we make room for the bird I’ll be testing out if he was true to his word.

“How long is that thing going to take to cook?” Willow asked, eyeing the giant monstrosity that had probably eaten other turkeys for dinner when it’d still been alive.  

“I’m planning to put it on early,” Buffy said.

“Might not need quite as long as you think.” Spike was pulling out odds and ends from Giles’ fridge to make room for the turkey.

“Hey.” Buffy frowned. “You might like everything rare, but it needs to get pretty well done for the rest of us.”

“You got me, kitten,” Spike said, his head inside the fridge. “You’ve sussed out my evil plan to off you and your mates through E. coli poisoning.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

Spike sighed. “I heard that.” Buffy giggled and Xander and Giles looked at each other again, this time wearing matching expressions of confusion. “I just meant,” the vampire continued, “that you don’t want to dry it out.”

Buffy’s expression became serious. “The injector thingy and melted butter should help with that, right?”

Spike stood and took the turkey from her and shoved it into the fridge.

“We’ll tent the pan with tinfoil, too. It’s going to turn out lovely.”

“Er,” Xander said. “Spike…you’re going to help Buffy make Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Xander frowned. “Just, vampire, and cooking…and it’s really not something Angel would have done.”

Buffy stopped what she was doing and made a distressed noise. Immediately, Spike pivoted and put an arm around her.

Willow gave Xander a withering glance, but he was already wearing an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Buffy, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay,” she said weakly. “I just don’t know when all that…will hurt less.”

Willow felt all kinds of pangs of sympathy. Oz being gone felt like a raw, open wound inside her.

“Might not ever completely stop,” Spike said with a kiss to her brow. “And that’s okay.”

“It is?” Buffy scrunched up her nose. “I really didn’t expect you to say that. Not about…”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Spike tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “We learn from past hurts. Doesn’t make them any easier, though. And your chum has a point…I really can’t imagine the git wielding a spatula and whipping up a green bean casserole.”

Buffy laughed. “No, I really can’t. He’d just stand there and stare while I did all the work.” She kissed Spike’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said before returning to sorting through the groceries.

Willow’s eyes darted back to Xander and Giles. Xander's lips were quirked, but then he shrugged and picked up the TV guide.

It was the look on Giles’ face that made Willow feel something akin to hope that everyone wasn’t going to gang up on Spike, or on Buffy for being with Spike. Giles’ expression was somewhere between shrewd and dumbstruck. He turned to Willow. “He’s not…he’s really not Angel, is he?” Giles' voice was low.

Willow shook her head.

“Buffy’s smiling,” Giles said.

“And laughing,” Willow added.

“She’s also relaxed.” Anya didn’t look up from her magazine. “It’s probably all the orgasms.”

Willow gritted her teeth, but then just snorted. “There better have been. I hope I didn’t sleep here on the couch last night for nothing.”

Giles was polishing his glasses again.

“Why’d you buy six cans of whipped cream?” Buffy’s voice drifted out of the kitchen.

“No reason,” Spike responded, though a split second later there was a squeal that let everyone know Buffy had probably just gotten a clue.

Xander was looking over the TV guide at Anya. “Think they’ll let us have one?”

“If you hurry and go ask,” she said and Xander stood to trot into the kitchen.

Willow sat beside Giles with a huff. “I miss Oz,” she said.

Giles paused his polishing. “Would hacking the university’s website looking for building plans help? Once Spike gets around to telling us where the airshaft let him out on campus, anyway.”

Willow smiled gratefully.

“Hey Giles,” Buffy said, dragging a reluctant looking Spike out of the kitchen. “Can Spike stay with you for a while? He can’t live at the dorm without the other students noticing and I’m worried if he’s just kicking around town that the commandos will find him.”

Giles rubbed a temple. Willow had explained the whole chip thing to everyone so Giles couldn’t make an argument against it on the basis of Spike being dangerous. “Sure,” Giles said after a moment. “But if you drink my good scotch you’re a dead man.”

Spike brightened. “Already there…so where you keep the good stuff?”

****

Giles loosened the scarf around his neck. It was warm for November, even for California. Or maybe that was the three—five?—glasses of scotch he’d imbibed at the bar. He felt he’d earned it after listening to Spike and Buffy making pie crust dough. Which wasn’t a euphemism.

He giggled to himself and nearly tripped over a curb. Who’d put that bloody thing there? Damn Yanks.

His apartment complex was in view and with any luck there’d be desserts sitting on the counter for the meal tomorrow and Buffy and Spike would not be doing anything that Giles would need a euphemism to describe.

He shook his head, which was a mistake as the world tilted a little to the side. Drat his Slayer and her penchant for falling in love with the worst possible partners. At least this one was amusing, more or less spoke English correctly, and seemed completely besotted with her. Also, he was upfront about the evil thing, and truthfully, Giles felt like he had very little reason to worry, even if the chip stopped working Spike wouldn’t turn into a different person. Actually, that was a conundrum. Would they even know if it stopped working? Spike would attempt to hide it to stay at Buffy’s side, of that Giles had no doubt.

Giles snorted as he entered the courtyard of his apartment building.

Attempt to hide it would be right. Spike was about as good at hiding as an air raid siren. Wait…that didn’t work as a metaphor. Giles stopped and frowned. Bloody terrible vampire making him use words in an interconnect…er, incorrect way.

Actually, that might be the scotch as well.

Giles looked heavenward, or tried to. A dark shadow standing on the stairs and staring through the landing window into his house made him pause. Giles scrunched his brow as the shadow gradually took on a recognizable shape.

“Angel?” Giles asked, puzzled.

Looking embarrassed, Angel turned to face Giles. “Er, hello.”

“What are you doing here?”

Angel ran a hand over his face. “Friend of mine saw that Buffy was in danger.” His expression became serious. “And I come here and what do I find? Her alone with Spike! In your apartment! What is going on?”

Giles considered the question seriously for a moment. “I was hoping that there were pies and possibly a cheesecake being made.”

Angel’s jaw clenched. “That wasn’t all that was being made.”

“Cobbler?” Giles tried to remember if he’d seen any peaches among the groceries Buffy had bought.

“No!” Angel barked, then quickly looked around the tiny courtyard, but nothing stirred. He dropped his voice. “Spike was…violating her. From behind, against the counter.”

Giles frowned. “Thank you for that charming word picture…wait…” His sloshed brain belated put two and two together. “Where you spying on them? While they were being intimate?”

Angel’s guilty look was all the confirmation Giles needed. It made him livid. “Look, you, you…tosser, I’m not really thrilled that for whatever reason Buffy’s decided Spike’s her beau, but if you’re looking for threats to her, look somewhere else. You know what he does? He makes her happy.” Giles strode up the stairs to poke Angel in the chest. “Something you never managed to do. Buffy has the whole world on her shoulders and he can still make her laugh. And he makes decent tea. Surprised me with a cup when I got up this morning.”

“He’s staying here?” Angel asked, bewildered.

Giles shrugged, but then a horrifying thought overtook him. “Did you say against the counter?”

“Er, yeah.” Angel made a face. “I couldn’t believe it, just pushed her skirt up and—”

“There weren’t,” Giles interrupted. “There weren't any of the desserts on that counter, were there?”

Angel sighed. “No, the cheesecake was already in the fridge and the pies were cooling on the pass-through.”

“Oh, thank god. That would have been awkward tomorrow.” Giles blearily fixed his eyes on Angel. “Look around town if you need to, but don’t spy on Buffy again or I’ll tell her that you were and sit back and watch the fireworks. Understand?”

“Got it,” Angel said tersely and walked down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to look up at Giles. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Trusting my Slayer,” Giles said evenly.

Angel shook his head, turned his back on Giles, and disappeared into the shadows.

****

Buffy frantically stirred the mashed potatoes.

“I think they’re thoroughly whipped, luv,” Spike said, coming up behind her and putting his hand over hers to still it. Much to her disappointment, he’d borrowed a black t-shirt from Giles.

“So are you,” Xander said from where he was lying on the couch.

“Pot, kettle,” Spike called back.

“Point,” Xander said, and then groaned. Anya bustled by, a fresh rag in her hand and a worried expression on her face. Xander was lying on Giles’ couch, suffering from every plague known to mankind at once from what any of them could tell. Hopefully, he’d still want dinner. Anya sat beside him and pressed the rag to his head. He made a noise like a deflating…sea cow, or something

Buffy winced and handed the bowl of potatoes to Spike. “Everything is almost done. Are you sure that Hus and his groupies are going to end up coming after me?”

Spike nodded. “You’re the power in this town. It’ll be you.” He set the potatoes on the counter and picked up the baster.

Buffy bit her lip. “Do you think they’ll wait until after dinner?”

“We can hope—” His words broke off into a grunt of pain as an arrow pierced his chest.

Buffy stared, horrified, but it wasn’t centered and her boyfriend didn’t turn into a cloud of dust. “Watch the heart,” he growled as he reached up and pulled the arrow out. Buffy’s shock turned to anger. Nobody threated to take him away from her.

Seething, she stood and grabbed a hand ax that was lying on the counter. Chaos was erupting around her, but she hardly noticed as she strode to the nearest vengeance spirit and struck at it, only to find her weapon useless. The spirt backhanded her when her ax failed to take its head off. She was overextended and went sprawling. Spike, arrow still in hand, snarled and his fangs descended. He leapt over her and slammed the arrow into the spirit’s head. It screamed and vanished, leaving Spike standing there, puzzled.

“Not human,” he said in a whisper. “Not human so the chip didn’t go off.” His eyes lit up as he turned and helped her to her feet. “Did you see? I can bloody fight!”

Buffy grinned and waved her hand towards the fray. “After you.”

It went quickly after that. Spike fighting beside her felt right in a bone-deep the-world-makes-sense kind of way.

As Hus returned to whatever ether had spawned him, the timer for the turkey dinged. Buffy dropped the stone knife she was holding, ignored Willow’s hand-wringing, and sprinted for the kitchen. She opened the oven and pulled out the perfectly golden-brown bird.

Phew.

She would have had to raise Hus and slay him all over again if her dinner had been ruined. Spike sidled up beside her as she set the turkey on the top of the stove.

“You’re bleeding,” he whispered, grasping her arm and cocking his head to look at where an arrow had grazed her.

“I think I’m the only one,” she said. “So hopefully everyone’s still hungry.”

“I know I am,” he said, taking deep breaths through his nose.

Oh, she got it. “It’s not much, but all yours.”

Spike bowed his head and lapped at the cut. Buffy let out a startled gasp because his tongue and lips dancing over the cut send a bolt of lightning straight to her core. Spike smiled against her skin.

“Later,” she whispered. “In the bathroom, after dinner.”

Spike’s smile widened.

****

Buffy was nearly glowing from all the praise her dinner received. She’d pulled it off, well, her and Spike had. He’d been really helpful, from not only knowing what a ricer was to pointing out she didn’t need one and a fork could do the same job.

Now pie was being passed around the table. Spike cut himself a big slice of pumpkin pie and sprayed whipped cream on the top while making dopey eyes at her. She speared an apple slice from her dessert with her fork and slowly slid it between her lips, making Spike squirm in his chair in the most satisfying way.

“I think the commandos’ base is under Lowell house on campus,” Willow said, breaking the silence of contented pie eating. Or cheesecake, in Giles’ case.

“Why do you think that?” Giles asked.

“Utilities,” Willow responded. “Their bills make no sense but are all promptly paid. It’s weird.”

Buffy took another bite of pie. “I think Riley lives there,” she said. “So that’s another clue.” She frowned. “Can we just bomb it to smithereens?”

“I’m all for that, kitten,” Spike said. “But there might be some people down in that hellhole I know you’d rather not have as collateral damage.”

“Damn,” Buffy muttered. “Can’t anything be easy?”

“Um.” Xander, who was looking much better, quirked his lips. “I don’t…but speaking of…Spike, you were able to take out those guys pretty easy today.”

All eyes shifted to Spike, making Buffy frown. “We think it was because they weren’t human. Which is nifty, because now Spike can help me on patrol.”

“Hell yeah I can,” he said, a grin on his face, but then he sighed. “Wouldn’t hurt you lot anyway, even if the chip wasn’t functioning.”

Giles nodded. “I’m aware, but you must understand…” he trailed off.

“Jenny.” Buffy hunched in her seat. “Jenny died.”

Spike’s face was sympathetic. “That was your bird, yeah?” he said to Giles, who tersely nodded. Spike drummed his fingers on the table. “At the risk of reminding all of you about things I’d rather you didn’t think about, I want to say something.” He swallowed hard and fixed his gaze on Giles. “That night, ‘fore you showed up with your fire and baseball bat, Angelus was gloating. Not about what he’d done, or that he’d stopped the gypsy from cursing him. It was about how he’d figured out how to drive a wedge between Buffy and her Watcher. He was so sodding pleased with himself.” Spike’s fingers stilled. “Didn’t work though, did it?”

Giles stood and walked around the table to place a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “No,” he said quietly. “It didn’t.” Buffy covered his hand with her own.

“Thanks for that trip down memory lane.” Xander crossed his arms. “But it doesn’t tell us anything about the chip.”

“Xander—” Buffy started, but Spike was already on his feet.

He turned to Willow and his fangs descended. “Sorry, Red, but you’ll probably forgive me.” He lunged for her throat but almost instantly collapsed to the floor in a heap, one hand on his head.

“Spike!” Buffy sent her chair to the floor in her haste to get to him. She knelt beside him. Xander, appearing shaken, joined her.

“S’okay,” Spike said, human mask back in place. “Just smarts. I needed your mates to know I’m not going to be making snacks out of them.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and started to help him stand, but Xander beat her to it. “Thanks,” Xander said as he grasped Spike’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “It makes a difference, y’know, right now when we’re still getting to know you.”

Spike looked down and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “No problem,” he mumbled.

Buffy put her hand on Spike’s shoulder.  “C’mon, let’s get you a rag for your forehead.” Anya so didn’t have a monopoly on the nursing of sick or injured boyfriends.

She glared at her friends as she led Spike down the hallway, and at least they all had the decency to look sheepish.

Once in the bathroom, she shut the door and grabbed a washcloth. Spike was beside the tub and wincing. “Rather bright in here,” he grumbled, pressing the heel of his palm tighter against his temple.

Buffy quickly flipped the switches until only the heat lamp was on with its muted glow.

“Thanks,” Spike said as she wet the cloth. Gently, she removed his hand from his head and pressed the rag to it.

“We’re going to take them down,” Buffy whispered. “Hurt them for making you hurt.”

Spike exhaled sharply. “Buffy, luv, it means so much that you want to do that. I can’t even tell you how much, but I don’t want you to be the one getting hurt in the process. Promise me you’re not going to rush in there with your proverbial guns blazing.”

She studied his face. “Alright, you win.” Spike smirked, then flinched as doing so seemed to aggravate his headache. “But you better believe me when I say that I am going to take out the Initiative. I may not know when or how, yet, but they are so going down.”

Spike raised a hand and slid his fingers through her hair. “You’re so beautiful when you’re being righteous. And this whole giving myself a headache thing worked out better than I thought.”

“It did?” she said, frowning and lowering her hand with the rag.

“I’m alone in the bathroom with you.” He waggled his brows, though he had to stop and rub at his forehead after a second.

Buffy put her hand on his cheek and smiled. “Y’know what? I’m really glad drunk me thought you were pretty and wanted to listen to you talk.”

“Sober-you doesn’t think I’m pretty?” He put his hands on her hips and tugged them forward so he could grind his erection against her.

“Nah, sober me thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous.” Having enough breath left to talk was seriously becoming an issue.

Spike smashed his lips into hers and sent his tongue deep into her mouth, making her moan. “So, kitten,” he gasped a moment later. “Is the Initiative the only thing that’s going down?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized at some point I wasn't going to fit all of S4 in here. This was *supposed* to be a silly, porny one shot that was cave!Buffy meets Demon and then the next morning they'd look wide-eyed at each other and go: "This never happened"...and that'd be the end. Obviously neither Spike nor Buffy was down for that plan. I'm hoping in the future to go through more of season four with them as a couple so that the darn Initiative can get what's coming for them. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I absolutely adore every comment and "kudo" that y'all have given my craziness! 
> 
> -sunAlso 9/20/2017 9:04 am


End file.
